


My Hot Neighbour

by starhoneyy



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Attempt at Humor, Doyoung is losing sleep over this, Flirting, Getting Together, Humour, Jaehyun disrupting Doyoung’s sleep schedule with... noises, Jaehyun is a playboy, Jaehyun is just very hot, Jaehyun knows exactly what he’s doing, Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung is Whipped, Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung-centric, Light-Hearted, M/M, Meet-Hot, No Angst, Slice of Life, Teasing, Vaguely anyways
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-27
Updated: 2020-10-27
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:48:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26813170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starhoneyy/pseuds/starhoneyy
Summary: Doyoung is woken up by a hot, new neighbour who he thinks about much more than he should. At work, at home, in the shower—And he must admit, it’s all very embarrassing really.
Relationships: Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung
Comments: 16
Kudos: 238





	My Hot Neighbour

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dojaefairy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dojaefairy/gifts).



> This is a birthday gift to Dojaefairy for constantly blessing us with Dojae content <333 I know you love fluff, but I couldn’t bring myself to write that out of a full-blown story context? I’m sorry, here’s my attempt at humour instead. Hope this is okay!
> 
> All my work is unbeta’d so if anyone sees a mistake, mind your business!  
> (or point it out, thanks).

Ah, home sweet home. There was nothing more that Doyoung wanted to do but crawl into his bed after a nine hour shift in the evening, curl up into a ball, and fall sleep till... till forever really. That'd be nice. Then he wouldn't have to face his boss' ugly face the next day and deal with customers screaming at him for things written in the company policy that he couldn't change for _obvious_ reasons, and then he'd have to call his manager again and his manager, herself, was such a stuck up—

He digressed.

And so, he planned to do just that as he entered his apartment that evening, kicking off his shoes and throwing his keys somewhere he'd be sure to search for the next morning — which, in all honestly, would probably make him late again — but that was a tomorrow problem. He didn't bother to change out of his work attire either as he belly flopped unto his bed, creaking the old and ratty wood. He slipped on his covers and got so comfortable that he was tempted to suck his thumb again like he did in elementary (and maybe middleschool), but decided he wouldn't embarrass himself... to himself.

He was on the precipice of full blown sleep, a dream had started up even, something to do with his mother and her godawful shepard's pie, before he was awoken. You'd think the general population could agree that night times were for sleeping. That was what Doyoung believed anyway, unless you were some sort of criminal — which then would make a bit more sense — but overall, everyone should be fast asleep by now. And so, the banging noises that were coming above him must've meant one of two things — Option 1: His overhead neighbour was some sort of sleepwalker and was walking into things and hurting themselves, _or_ Option 2: His neighbour was a serial killer.

There was another bang, a mangled scream, and _Oh God_ , his neighbour was a goddamn _criminal_.

The lack of sleep must have made him irrational because he was almost certain that sober Doyoung wouldn't have done this, sober Doyoung would've just minded his business. But he wasn't sober Doyoung — he was half asleep Doyoung running on animal crackers (his breakfast) and a can (or two, who knows) of redbull — so, he weakly pulled off his duvet and trudged over to the door. He didn't bother to put on his shoes as he walked out of his apartment either, feet too numb to feel the cold of the floor, so he stepped into the elevator and pressed the button to the apartment level above his, blinking away the vestiges of sleep, and looking like the undead.

The elevator opened up with an ear-splitting ping, and he ignored the ringing that echoed in his ears as he stepped out. If his highschool maths-wizz brain was good for anything, combined with the architecture degree he just completed, number 43 should be the apartment above his. He didn't even bother to double check it, he didn’t _need_ to, because the crashing noises and strangled screams coming from the room itself pointed him in the right direction.

And huh. It was number 44 not 43. That vaguely made more sense.

Doyoung stood straighter from his hunched over position, where he'd been slouching like a sloth, and cracked his old man back. He listened in for a second, scrunching his nose at the sound of someone being brutally murdered, and it was only when he was already knocking did he remember he should probably have told someone where he was going — maybe texted Taeyong that he was about to play Murder She Wrote at 11am with his upstairs neighbour. Taeyong probably wouldn't have seen it till the next morning though, so he'd probably be dead either way. Doyoung decidedly thought that it didn't matter.

Fine if he was dead. No more of prissy Ms Wendy, his stuck up manager bi—

"Hey."

The door had swung open, and Doyoung didn't think it was possible for his already dehydrated body and mouth to run even drier. This guy was hot, Doyoung's now eighty percent awake, horny brain supplied, and like, hot hot. Like fucking hot. Like if he was a girl and wore panties they would've dropped hot. Like jack off material hot.

Okay, too far. Also sort of invasive. He was mildly apologetic but he couldn't help it, the guy was a sex god personified. Adonis, Apollo, Aphrodites twin brother — he didn't pay attention in history class and that wasn't the point either.

He was just. So. Freakin. _Hot_.

And the thing was, the guy must have _known_ he was hot, or at least must have known that _Doyoung_ thought he was hot because his lips spread into this perfect smirk you'd only see in the movies. And he had dimples. Oh My God, he had _dimples_.

Doyoung nearly cried at the sight.

"You okay there?" he asked Doyoung with his brows raised in amusement.

Sexy god man rose a hand to push his dark hair back, some of which had stuck to his forehead from sweat, and Doyoung's eyes followed a bead of it that had travelled down the side of his face to his collarbone, to his pectoral, to the indented lines of his torso, to— Doyoung was goddamn _staring_. Sober him would be ashamed. Current him was ashamed too actually, now that he pinpointed the feeling. Ashamed, horny, and _embarrassed_. He still hadn't even answered the man's question.

"I— I— The noise," Doyoung managed to say but barely.

He sounded a bit stupid, that much he knew, but his mind had clouded over with fog and fuzz, and his heart was beating so irregularly that he was sure he'd have to get himself checked in at the hospital after this. His brother was a nurse though, so maybe he could do it for him, but then Gongmyung would ask him what had caused it, so nope. Nevermind. He'd deal with his heart failure on his own.

A girl stepped out from the shadows behind dimple man, a dark blue robe wrapped around her, dangling by a knot that was barely holding itself together as her boobs threatened to spill out. Maybe the two of them were some sort of exhibitionists. Would they mind Doyoung joining?

"What's the hold u— oh. Hi." She seemed nice. She also seemed fairly out of breath.

And oh. The noises now made a whole lot more sense.

 _Of course they made sense, there's a goddamn towel hanging around his waist, Doyoung._ And hanging quite loosely too, his monkey brain added on.

"We're sorry for the disturbance, really," the sexy man offered him, but the smirk on his face and the lilt to his voice told Doyoung that he wasn't really sorry at all. Doyoung watched, partially scandalized, as the man ran a hand down his exposed upper half slowly and smiled at him. Doyoung was sure he was doing it all _on purpose._ "I'm Jaehyun, your new neighbour. I moved in here a couple days ago, number 44," sexy man — _Jaehyun_ — told him.

Doyoung did harbour some distant memories of moving trucks outside the apartment complex the past couple days, but he'd also been late to work the last couple days, so he hadn't given much thought to it at the time. Maybe if he'd woken up earlier (unlikely) and strolled outside instead of practically sprinting, he would have stopped to say hi to Mr Adonis himself (Jaehyun, he repeated. Jaehyun, Jaehyun, _Jaehyun_ ). Then he would've introduced himself properly, not looking cute most likely since he was on his way to work, but looking decent at the very least.

A shiver ran through him from his feet to his frazzled brain. And Oh My God, he wasn't even wearing _socks!_

"I'm Doyoung," Doyoung answered finally, voice barely above a whisper as his eyes followed the girl in the back when she came behind dimpled sex man ( _Jaehyun, get it fucking right Doyoung!_ ) and slid her perfectly manicured hands over his broad shoulders, humming into his back. "I live downstairs, below you, I think." He didn't think, he _knew_. "Number twenty two if you ever want borrow sugar or something. Or bread, or a kettle." Doyoung shut the fuck up at the last one because really? A goddamn _kettle?_

The man looked on in amusement, "I'll keep that in mind, Doyoung."

And then the door was promptly shut in his face.

He stared at it, blinking for a few seconds, minutes, hours, he didn't _know_ , but when the banging noises (he now attributed that to the creak of the bed) and the sounds of strangulation (he now attributed that to high pitched, shriek-like moans) started up again, he picked up his ice cold feet and walked himself to the elevator.

He'd left the door to his apartment open because he had nothing of value to rob other than his grandma's necklace really — an item which he kept forgetting to pawn off — and he felt exhaustion hit him like a truck the moment he stepped in, so without a second thought, he crawled back into bed like the pathetic creature he was, half hard in his work pants. He could have wriggled himself out of them to make himself more comfortable, but he didn't trust himself to be naked right now for _obvious_ reasons.

And so, he drifted into sleep, licking his lips at the delicious dream of a toned abdomen which appeared to be just as delectable as chocolate cake.

Fortunately or unfortunately, Doyoung didn't see his neighbour in person for at least a week after that. But he did see all the man's... conquests, for lack of better term.

Doyoung marvelled at all the girls he'd met in the elevator in the morning on his way to his part time job. And they all looked the same; lips bitten raw, flushed cheeks, hair dishevelled, clothes worn the wrong way around — basically, they all just looked very _dicked down._ A small part of him thought that it was a bit unfair. If his neighbour was such a playboy, why hadn't he been picked? He unconsciously sulked everytime he thought about it, something he didn't know he was doing until Taeyong pointed it out when they were in the coffee shop that same weekend.

_("You're thinking about him again," Taeyong pointed out flatly, not taking his eyes off his drawing tablet he used for work. Unlike Doyoung, Taeyong had already put his degree to use and was working full time as a designer in an IT company._

_"Shut up," Doyoung answered him, too frazzled to be literate, and with his cheek_ s _painting a fiery shade of vermillion._

_Taeyong just snorted in response.)_

But overall, Jaehyun seemed to have a type; long hair, filled out hips, ass, tits, and full lips — all attributes Doyoung didn't see himself to have. Nevermind that they were all girls and he was a goddamn _man_. He didn't have the princess parts for it anyway, but his gaydar, or perhaps bi-dar in this case, was never off. Or maybe he was just thinking it was accurate to give himself some much needed hope. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry at how pathetic it was, he barely even knew the man for Godsake, yet he was this rabid.

And by mid second week, Doyoung had resolved to get over the man. It wasn't like he had much of a chance anyway, and he was far too much of a scaredy cat to approach him without a valid reason. He didn't have to approach him though, and in the end, his resolve had dissolved, because Jaehyun had come to him first.

Doyoung had just finished up his weekly hour long phone call to his mother and had moved on to his daily two to three hour long filling in of job applications before multiple knocks on his door, resounded. Doyoung then got up, puzzled at who it could possibly be. He didn't really have friends other than Taeyong who was most definitely at work today, and Ten who was with his older boyfriend on a spur-of-the-moment trip to Maldives on one of their yachts, and subsequently hadn't texted him for a whole two weeks.

It was most likely Ten though because he did have that sort of habit (or lack of common decency, Doyoung would tell him) to visit whenever he wanted, without any sort of warning. He'd usually just enter with the spare key Doyoung left outside, underneath the potted plant. (He'd walked into Doyoung half naked after a shower four times because of that.)

And so, saying Doyoung was surprised would have been underplay because he was astonished, shocked, and goddamn stupefied at the sight of Jaehyun at his door. And Jaehyun wasn't wearing anything special, just a plain, sleeveless, generously cut, black tank, and some joggers, accompanied with that award winning, dimpled smile of his (Doyoung thought it deserved multiple grammys). Jaehyun's eyes flit past Doyoung's head and momentarily scoured his apartment, and Doyoung could only thank his intuition for presenting him with the urge to clean the night before.

Jaehyun's eyes focused back in on him again, and Doyoung found himself feeling quite _small_.

"Hey," he started, voice just as deep and baritone as he remembered it, an affirmation to Doyoung that what happened a week and a half ago wasn't some sort of hallucination or weird lucid dream. "Sorry to disturb, but can I borrow your sugar?"

Doyoung blinked at him once, twice, thrice, before nodding his head dumbly.

"Great!" Jaehyun smiled at him before using the imaginary invitation Doyoung had yet to get out to slide past him into the apartment. "I like your decorations, it's quite cute," Jaehyun said, looking around with feigned interest.

"Thanks, my friends said it looks like stuff from a yard sale," Doyoung supplied before he could stop himself. He sucked in his cheeks, wide eyed, and cursed himself internally for his conversational skills. But at least his words had somehow managed to make Jaehyun laugh. Doyoung didn't think he was funny that either so maybe it was out of pity.

He cringed internally.

"Err, you can look around— or stay there. Do whatever you want." Had his voice always been this high pitched? He sounded a bit stupid. "I'll go fetch the sugar, sorry, one second."

Doyoung scurried past him, looking down at his feet — he had socks on this time, _thank God_ — as he made his way into the kitchen. He had just gotten on his tippy toes to reach the top shelf where the sugar was allocated (why he put it so high up, he didn't _know_ ) before Jaehyun's voice spoke up again.

"I'm sorry to ask, but I actually don't have a kettle, and I've really been craving some tea."

Doyoung paused, still on his toes.

Jaehyun wasn't making any real sense. So he'd come for tea and... not sugar? Why didn't he just say that in the first place? And _wait a minute._ He had just invited himself in for tea. Did he want to stay over? Were they going to be friends now? Or maybe something more if his bi-dar was in any way correct. Because really, there was a coffee shop right across their apartment complex that sold better tea than whatever Doyoung could offer from his ratty old kettle, so had Jaehyun come in here looking for conversation? It's not like he couldn't afford it either because from the glimpse Doyoung had gotten into his apartment, Jaehyun seemed well off.

"I can make it," Doyoung said finally, lowering himself until his feet were flat on the ground again. He felt a bit dizzy, like his head had been spun in a washing machine on a forty minute cycle. It was all the antigravity.

"You want normal tea?" Doyoung asked and Jaehyun made a sound of affirmation. "Like, teabag tea?" Doyoung asked just to be completely, absolutely, one hundred and ten percent sure.

"Yeah," Jaehyun hummed, "like Lyons."

Lyons sounded like a brand, one of those brands he'd look over when buying tea and go for the cheaper, fifty cent box options. Doyoung went to fill and plug the kettle in with slow movements. He decided that Jaehyun wouldn't be able to tell the difference between between Lyons and cheap tea because his tastebuds couldn't be _that_ refined. So with deliberate movements, and after rewashing his cleanest cups, Doyoung waited in the kitchen as the kettle boiled, not have the guts to go back to the living room and make conversation.

The only noise that could be heard was the screeching whistle of the kettle, and it wasn't awkward per se, but Doyoung was definitely... _tense_.

His body relaxed as the whistling of the kettle died down, only to return to stone as he heard Jaehyun's heavy footsteps approaching from behind him. He focused on getting the cup and tea, not daring to look back and see if Jaehyun could hear his heart pounding in his ears like one of those bongo drums. He could _feel_ Jaehyun's presence, and the man seemed to have no sense of personal space (he was similar to Ten in that regard) as he came right behind Doyoung, peering over his shoulder and practically breathing down his neck. Doyoung was sure if he took one step back, he'd be met with the lined brick wall that was Jaehyun's torso.

He attempted to even out his breath as he picked up the kettle with shaky hands. Jaehyun was so close, so goddamn _close_ , that Doyoung's knees were beginning to give out from the proximity.

"Do you want milk?" Doyoung shrunk into himself at how small he sounded. Jaehyun must have been a few inches away with the way Doyoung could feel the rumble of his chest from laughter.

"Yes, Doyoung." And Doyoung didn't know whether Jaehyun was saying his name that raspy on purpose, but it was worsening his nerves _regardless_.

With jittery hands, Doyoung moved to open the milk, and for some bloody reason, the cap wasn't coming off. He wasn't about to ask Jaehyun for help with it either. All his strength had gone because of Jaehyun, so what help could he be? He needed that man away from him if he ever wanted to function properly.

"Could you get me a spoon from the drawer beside me?"

And the thing was, Doyoung had asked that in hope of Jaehyun stepping away and giving him space to recollect himself before he would inevitably embarrass himself, but Jaehyun, as Doyoung come to know, always had other plans.

Instead of moving away to get to the drawer like any sane person would do, Jaehyun instead placed one hand by Doyoung's side onto the counter, and reached over with his other hand to open the drawer in one swift motion, effectively trapping Doyoung in the process. And as if on cue, the cap to the milk was ripped open with sudden force, effectively spilling some milk all over his hand.

Doyoung knew then and there that he was _screwed_.

Doyoung put the milk down after almost having dropped it, and spun around to face him. Jaehyun had a glint in his eyes that hadn't been there before, or maybe it was and he'd been too invested in himself to notice it. He could make it out now though — _hungry_. Doyoung watched, wide eyed, as Jaehyun ran his tongue over his teeth, but Jaehyun wasn't paying any attention to himself, eyes zeroed in on Doyoung's lips that had been partially parted from shock.

And was it just him or was the air conditioner broken again?

Doyoung didn't realise just how feeble he had gotten until his knees gave up on him and was caught firmly on the waist by Jaehyun. Jaehyun's hand was exceptionally large, his brain unhelpfully offered, like, so large both hands could probably touch if placed around his waist — big man hands, his brain supplied even less unhelpfully than last time, and clearly having lost all sense of literacy.

Where Jaehyun touch felt like it was on fire, like it physically been lit with a match and _burned_. Doyoung had to bite down on his lip to stop himself from yelping, which would possibly lose whatever tangible moment had been accumulating thus far.

Doyoung gulped as Jaehyun moved his other hand to hold the opposite side of his hip — and he was _right_ , Jaehyun’s hands were so gargantuan that they had somehow managed to touch around the circumference of his waist. If Jaehyun wasn't holding unto him so firmly, he was 99.9% certain he would've melted into a puddle of water — a puddle, not an ocean because Jaehyun had a way of making him feel exceptionally small.

"The tea," Doyoung squeaked.

Jaehyun's eyes flickered between Doyoung's eyes and lips before he paused, locking his eyes with Doyoung. Doyoung was aware that he currently most likely resembled a tomato, but the blush couldn't be helped — not with the way Jaehyun was still leaning in, inching closer, and not with the way his heart had stopped, but was beating out of his chest all at once. Doyoung closed his eyes and puckered his lips slightly, only for the feeling of a body close to his to be _gone_.

When he had opened his eyes, Jaehyun had taken a few steps back, now at a breathable distance. Wearing a devil-like grin, he spoke, "The spoon." Doyoung's blinking eyes went to the utensil he was holding out patiently. He could see his wonky reflection in it.

The spoon?

_The spoon._

Oh right. The spoon.

Jaehyun waved it around with an amused grin, and Doyoung could only open and close his mouth like a fish out of water. He thought Jaehyun was going to kiss him. He genuinely thought Jaehyun was going to _kiss him._ He had even closed his own eyes for and then he just— he just _didn't_. Doyoung had made himself look like a complete and utter fool in front of him, and now Jaehyun probably knew that his weirdo next door neighbour who didn't wear socks when they went out had a crush on him.

It was so. Fucking. EMBARRASSING.

"Right," Jaehyun said before stepping forward to pick up Doyoung's limp hand and place the spoon in his palm. He wrapped Doyoung's fingers around it before holding Doyoung's hand in both of his and shaking it around as if to jolt the smaller man awake. Doyoung's brain had registered Jaehyun's large hands on his (at this point it was second nature), and he didn't know he had a hand kink but Jaehyun seemed to have woken some odd sexual desire in him.

Jaehyun dropped his hand and looked at his watch as Doyoung stared on, unblinking. "I've got to get going now but thanks for your help, Doie."

Doie. He called him _Doie_.

"Yeah," Doyoung started helplessly, "No problem." And it was only when Jaehyun was already on his way out that Doyoung remembered the ice cold tea behind him, accompanied by the bottle of milk he'd left open. Doyoung didn't really drink tea. He didn't really like tea. The tea was for whenever his mother came over.

"Are you not going to take the drink?" he blurted.

"It's fine, you can have it. I'm actually in the mood for coffee," Jaehyun answered almost boredly, and then the door was shut with an unnecessarily aggressive _bang!_

One word: Fuck.

Four words: _Did he break it?_

"Doyoung, you sound so fucking stupid."

"Is that all you have to say? I thought you'd help me," Doyoung whined, splaying himself across the table.

They were currently in the café across his apartment apartment complex — He, Taeyong, and Ten now that he was back from his Yacht trip with his loaded husband — and Doyoung had just regurgitated what Taeyong and Ten had missed. It came out as word vomit, one big pile of mush as he sprang from memory to memory, the entire retelling was much longer than it should have been, but Doyoung was nothing if not theatrical.

"Yeah, offer more helpful advice," Ten turned to Taeyong with a frown, pointing his Gucci sunglasses at him like it was one of those rulers they used to scold kids with when coporal punishment was still allowed in schools. Oddly specific. "Now," Ten turned back to Doyoung who was sitting helplessly splayed out in front of him. "How does he look like?"

"Is that all _you_ have to say? I've already explained!" Doyoung sat back up with mild irritation, though there was no real bite to his words, not to Taeyong and Ten anyway. Ten looked back at him flatly.

"Ten's right," Taeyong added, "pics or it didn't happen."

He hadn't even bothered to look up from his drawing tablet as he said it. Taeyong was so goal orientated that it was unnerving at times, and Doyoung fleetingly wondered how his life would have turned out if he had paid more attention during his lectures, or even put in half the work Taeyong always had when they were roommates. He'd probably have graduated with a first class, too. And be employed. Most importantly, be employed.

"I can't just take pics of him! That's like— an invasion or privacy or whatever! And kinda stalkery. I don't want him to think I'm a stalker. Oh my God, what if he already thinks I'm a stalker?" Doyoung cried before slamming his head on the table. The few people in the café paid them no mind, everyone in their neighbourhood was quite odd anyway.

"You're exaggerating," Taeyong huffed, finally looking up, " _and_ making it harder than it should be. Just ask for his number the next time you see him, I don't see the problem. If he says no, alright, there are bigger and better fish—" Doyoung looked up with a pout, he didn't _want_ a bigger or better fish. "— and if he says yes, then great. You've bagged yourself a man, and you can stop complaining to Ten and I about your loneliness. Win-win situation if you ask me," Taeyong shrugged nonchalantly.

Doyoung frowned and Ten made to speak but was cut off by the ring from his phone. Doyoung watched as Ten gave them a half-assed apologetic look (which was pretty sincere since Ten wasn't very.. _apologetic_ ) before picking up the call. He turned his knees and faced the side to speak.

"Uh huh. Yes baby. Really? Okay, I'll cut it short. Mhm."

Then he proceeded to make wet, kissy noises into the microphone before finally cutting the call. Ten turned back and looked up to see Doyoung and Taeyong looking on in disgust.

"What?"

"You're just so," Taeyong leaned back into his seat with a grimace, "cute." He shuddered. Even emotionless Taeyong could admit it, and Doyoung wholeheartedly agreed that Ten and his grandpa aged husband, Kun, were disgustingly cute. Kun practically worshipped the ground he walked on, and as much as Ten acted apathetic towards his husband directly sometimes, it was obvious to anyone with functioning eyes that Ten was head over heels in love.

_Love._

Doyoung felt like banging his head on the table again.

"Yeah, well, that'd be you and Jaeho, or whatever his name is, if you'd get up and talk to him." Ten smiled at him and Doyoung scrunched his nose. Taeyong had gone back to scribbling on his electronic notepad.

"That's easy for you to say, you _never_ have to make the first move." There was no bitterness in Doyoung's voice, it was merely a fact, a certified _statement_. Ten never did any chasing, and Doyoung was too afraid to go after what he wanted. Ten giggled behind his hand, saying a soft _that's true_ inbetween. And Doyoung was beginning to grow restless because his best friends (he would soon denounce the name) were of no help _at all._

"I'm sorry guys, but I've got to go," Ten said as he put on his fur coat. Doyoung glanced to the window despondently as Ten got ready leave, and then he did a double take.

"That's him," Doyoung said in quiet disbelief, before practically yelling, "that's _him!_ "

Ten reeled back to stand straight from where he had crouched to give Taeyong beside him a kiss on the cheek. He shot Doyoung an unimpressed look, then looked out of the window before his was handbag suddenly dropped unto the table with a soft _thud_ , and he plopped himself back down. Even Taeyong looked up and over, and sure enough, there was said sexy man himself. Ten nearly cried into his hands because Jaeho (?) was one of the hottest men he had ever seen (Kun was still the hottest, thank you very much), and Taeyong blinked once, twice, thrice before collecting himself.

He turned to Doyoung who looked grief stricken. "And you said he had dimples?"

Doyoung faced him with the sullen nod of his head.

"You're so fucked."

Ten spoke up next, hands practially pressed against the window to get a better look at the man himself. Even in 480p, Jaehyun was still a sex god personified. "He's making me want to get a divorce."

"Ten," Doyoung hissed in annoyance, mostly just to warn him off because he couldn't compete with Ten if they liked the same person. It had happened before actually, in highschool when they both had a crush on an American transfer named Youngho who insisted that everyone called him Johnny. He had this stupid American accent and always wore jeans that were way too tight for him, but Doyoung had fallen head over heels for him anyways. So did Ten. It was obvious who'd won.

"Haha. Joking."

Things had been going well, all things considered. At his second part time job, Wendy, his manager, had called out sick for the past couple days, so hurray! (Doyoung even did a mini dance in the breakroom to which he was promptly caught by his trainee coworker, Donghyuck). He hadn't been late for work either, he hadn't paid any of his bills late (he usually missed one or two by accident), and even his mother had been too busy to call him like she usually did because she was attending his older, better looking, more successful brother's (aka _Gongmyung_ , the name left a bitter (jealous) taste in his mouth) dinner with his girlfriend.

All in all, life had been treating him good. Too good. It was a little _(lot)_ suspicious.

So when he'd ran into Jaehyun in the middle of getting his laundry from their shared laundry basement, he couldn't say he was entirely surprised. Just a smidgen. A little bit really. He was mostly just embarrassed.

"Hey Doyoung," came a deep voice from the doorway.

Doyoung stilled, hunched over in front of the washing machine. He didn't dare look over, he didn't want to look over, but he broke a sweat as he _did_. Jaehyun had an empty laundry basket in his hands — his big, juicy, thick, meaty hands — and he was dressed like the word perfection had taken human form in a tight fitting, navy suit and tie.

Doyoung distantly registered that Jaehyun looked like one of those Chaebols in the kdramas he binge watched with Ten. Maybe he _was_ some sort of Chaebol sent to these apartments for some correction or something. He also distantly registered that he had made some sort of choking noise, the reason for Jaehyun's current laughter. He wanted to melt into a puddle of water to be used for the washing machine so that he'd never have to come out again. Maybe he’d end up getting put on the rinse cycle for Jaehyun’s clothes if he got lucky enough.

_Okay Doyoung, that was kind of weird!_

"What are you up to?" Doyoung finally asked as he turned back to his own laundry, a prominent blush having made its way to his cheeks after creeping up his neck from out of his thin, green shirt.

"Just collecting my clothes from the drier," Jaehyun hummed, and Doyoung could hear the sound of his shoes as he made his past him towards the machine. "I have a meeting after this."

Doyoung made a sound of approval because he was unsure what to say to that. Was Jaehyun really a Chaebol? He would ask if his throat wasn't so goddamn clogged up. Instead, he focused on putting the remainder of his clothes into the washing machine fairly quickly, but just slow enough that Jaehyun wouldn't ask him why he was in such a rush. He'd probably have this sort of teasing, knowing smirk on his face too, and Doyoung wasn't exactly in the mood to have another heart attack.

Jaehyun was faster than him though. The sexy hand man had collected his minimal laundry, and before Doyoung could register it, was crouched down behind him, having placed one of those darn large hands on his back. And Jaehyun must have been distantly related to Medusa because Doyoung was frozen in place.

"Mickey mouse briefs? Nice."

Doyoung could hear the amused sound of his voice ringing in his ears. He could hear it when Jaehyun placed his hands on his knees and rose up, he could hear it as Jaehyun made his way to the stairs, he could even hear it as the door to the laundry room creaked when it opened and when it closed from the lack of oil Doyoung had asked the handy man to put on the door but was ignored. He could hear Jaehyun's mocking all the way to the door of his own apartment as he walked, stupefied, because that would be the last time he accidentally mixed the reds and the whites.

And it was unfair really, because Jaehyun always somehow managed to have the last word.

The next time they met, it was in the lobby downstairs. Doyoung was on his way in after finally deciding to buy himself groceries and not live on instant ramen for another week out of pure laziness, and Jaehyun was on his way out. They met like that, two separate worlds colliding in a the lobby of their apartment, like positive and negative atoms attracted to each other. Except that Doyoung was a sodium ion and Jaehyun was a potassium ion, so in the end, they created an explosion. At least, that's what it felt like when Jaehyun placed an arm on his shoulder.

"Hey, Doyoung."

Jaehyun smiled, the moon craters in his cheeks on full display as Doyoung short circuited. Jaehyun was touching him again, as he did with every encounter they had, but Doyoung decided he was looking too much into it. It couldn't mean anything. It probably meant nothing. This was fine. This was okay. Friendly even.

"So, where are you coming from?"

Doyoung smiled at him, lopsided, as he lifted the grocery two bags in his hands to substitute an answer. Jaehyun's hand slid down to his arm as he looked down before looking back up to say, "Sorry, stupid question," he laughed, angelic. "Actually, do you need help with those?"

"No!" Doyoung blurted. And it was an involuntary reaction, a moment of panic caused by Jaehyun's far too warm man hand sliding down from his arm all the way to one of Doyoung's hands. Doyoung almost dropped the bag out of shock but was glad he didn't because it'd probably have ended up on Jaehyun's toes and then his upstair neighbour sexy man would hate him.

Doyoung had the tendency to exaggerate.

"Alright..." Jaehyun said slowly as he retracted his hand, and Doyoung almost cried at the momentary loss before Jaehyun replaced it on his shoulder. He massaged the area a bit, unknowingly (or knowingly with that sort of smirk) causing Doyoung's insides to implode. He patted the area with his hand once, twice, thrice before taking it off with a smile. "I'll see you later."

And then he was off.

But — because there could never be an end to Jaehyun terrorising his mental peace — that was only the beginning of the unfortunate series of events. Jaehyun's _later_ was in fact not ambiguous, because he seemed to have set dates of tormenting Doyoung's well being. Doyoung would say he was doing it on purpose (To which Ten agreed but Taeyong was very much skeptical) that he always managed to run into Jaehyun in two day intervals. No more, no less, he never even caught sight of the man in the days inbetween. Jaehyun was planned, cold, calculated, like a thief that had come to steal his heart and raise his dick in broad daylight.

Two days after the lobby incident, he met Jaehyun in the elevator on his way to work, and once again, Jaehyun had found a way to touch him with his sexy man hands or even his sexy man arm — shoulder to shoulder as if there was no more space in the boxed up compartment. He had made small talk that had left Doyoung stuttering. You know, nothing out of the usual.

And then the time after that, Doyoung had met him on his way to the coffee shop across the street just as it was closing. Jaehyun was supposedly the last customer, walking out with a freshly brewed drink in hand just as Doyoung was about to walk in but was met with the sign of _we're closed_. Jaehyun promptly offered him his own drink (he wouldn't take no for an answer. Doyoung quite liked a man that was in command, wink wonk) before ruffling his hair and walking away.

And then the time after _that_ , they had collided in the corner shop Doyoung often went to buy ramen. And the thing was, Jaehyun didn't even look like a man who'd ever eat stale corner store food, too toned, too fit to consume such nonsense. Doyoung had even seen him in gym gear, so he pegged Jaehyun's sudden appearance as an odd twist of fate. A very odd twist of fate. A twist of fate that had wanted him dead because he had placed a hand on Doyoung's waist and huskily (yes, huskily!) called him _Doie_.

It was in destiny's plans to have him dead by the age of twenty three.

And so you see, it was just a continuous cycle of Jaehyun pushing Doyoung further and further with his lingering touches and electric stares as the days went on. By week three, Doyoung was teetering on the precipice of madness, holding unto sanity itself before he would surely, without a shadow of a doubt, completely lose it. He wanted Jaehyun so bad that he should've been ashamed really with the amount of times he thought about the man in a day. It was, in Taeyong's words, _fucking absurd._

Though, the thing that really pushed Doyoung off the edge was not from Jaehyun himself. Not exactly.

It was by pure coincidence that Doyoung had met that man that morning on his way to work, a minute or two earlier than usual, so he'd probably have to speed walk instead of sprint — which was always a nice thought, as rare as it was. Anyways, there was already somebody inside the elevator when it had clanged open, a man that could only have come out of the clutches of his neighbour Jung Jaehyun. Doyoung blinked at the man momentarily before stepping inside quickly in an effort to keep his speed walk to work as a speed walk.

And the thing was, he'd recognise the shape of those love bites anywhere. Always in the same place even — littered above the collarbone, wrapped around the neck, trailing down under the man's shirt that hung loosely around his chest from having its weak fibres being pulled. Not to mention the messy hair and raw, bitten lips, and oh, the not-so-subtle fact that he _reeked_ of sex. Plus, his shirt was on backwards. Doyoung wondered if he should tell him.

Regardless, he'd been stamped and branded by Doyoung's neighbour himself, he couldn't be more obvious unless he'd worn a shirt with Jaehyun's godly face on it and arrows point around it saying _'I've just been railed by this guy!'_

But Doyoung was getting ahead of himself here. Maybe the guy wasn't Jaehyun's lay even though Doyoung was more than familiar with the shape of those hickeys. Maybe he was from a different apartment upstairs, 43, not 44. Maybe he'd been sexed up by somebody else entirely and Doyoung's bi/gaydar was completely off.

Until it wasn't.

"Fucking Jung Jaehyun," the man muttered with a scowl. And Doyoung had no time to ask, no time to panic and make the awful decision of pulling him back just to confirm that his ears were working correctly and that he was indeed alive, because the man stepped out of the elevator just as it pinged. A timely coincidence really, but a beneficial one nonetheless because now he was aware that Jaehyun swung both ways.

Jaehyun was gay — No, Jaehyun was _bi!_ Jaehyun liked dicks, hooray! Doyoung would no longer feel the need to long for princess parts because he had a fully functioning, semi erect willy wonka in his pants.

The realisation was _euphoric_.

The realisation also made the marathon sprint to work a whole lot more enjoyable.

It was two days later that Doyoung had scheduled it. Jaehyun always bumped into him every two days (coincidental or not. His gay yearning and delusions told him that it was not), and Doyoung was always _coincidentally_ in the halls, outside the building, or in the laundry room every two days. This time, however, he was cooped up in his apartment waiting for Jaehyun to come directly to him. And there was no guarantee that this would work, no reassurance that Jaehyun's and his meetings were purposeful, but after a short pep talk from Ten, he'd already brushed his teeth, styled his hair for once, and put on a pretty shirt. Doyoung was ready.

Sort of.

Kinda.

But he was ready!

Doyoung sat down patiently in his living room, awaiting Jaehyun's arrival. He had tried to busy himself earlier, but nothing had worked. He'd nearly even spilt some milk on his pretty shirt instead, so he decided to just keep his jittery hands on his lap as he sat on the couch. The scene of him staring into nothingness would probably be a bit unsettling if someone like Ten — or anyone really — were to barge in at that very moment. They'd probably think he'd been possessed. That was fine, Jaehyun _had_ cast some sort of lovesick spell on him.

Doyoung sighed to himself as he lay — sat — in waiting: _And now, we wait._

And said wait hadn't entirely been that long, a mere thirty minutes actually. Doyoung gulped it down, swallowing nothing but dry cotton, the thrumming of blood ringing in his ears as he stood up to get the door. He could do this, he affirmed to himself, _he could do this._ He was going to gather his squiggly guts and kiss Jaehyun square on the lips before he could second guess himself like he was doing now. Or third guess. Or fourth. Fifth. Okay, he'd lost count, but that wasn't the point! He'd kiss Jaehyun on the lips and then wrap his legs around him, _okay?!_

That was _if_ his legs started working again, because they had currently turned into noodles whilst his stomach was practicing for a gold medal in acrobatics. Jaehyun was a very patient guy, that much was obvious, because who else would wait so long at the door for someone as unimportant as Doyoung?

Oh shit. What if it wasn't Jaehyun? What if it was Ten deciding to knock for once — No, physically impossible. What if it was Taeyong? Or some other neighbour coming to ask for sugar? What if—

Doyoung swung the door open before his racing mind could get in another word. His noodle legs nearly buckled then and there because it _was_ Jaehyun. Jaehyun was here to see him. Jaehyun was gay. Jaehyun was bi. Jaehyun was a man. Doyoung was a man. And oh. Doyoung was kissing him square on the lips. Doyoung, without any second thought or unnecessary reservation, grabbed Jaehyun by his collar, pulled him down with iron grip, and kissed the man square on the lips.

And it was exactly how he'd spent so _(embarrassingly)_ long imagining it — better even. An electrifying spark travelling from his head to the tips of his toes, making his grip on Jaehyun’s collar loosen with his shaky fingers. There were fireworks in his monkey brain, a warm feeling pooling in his gut from where Jaehyun was pressing a hand to his back to steady him, and butterflies, and rainbows, and—

Doyoung stilled suddenly, hand still gripping Jaehyun's collar. He hadn't asked Jaehyun to kiss him.

_Oh God, he hadn't asked Jaehyun to kiss him!_

He just opened the door and chokeholded him into it like some sort of.... some sort of goddamn _neanderthal!_ Even neanderthals were better than this, he was sure they gave each other some form of consent, be it grunting or whatever. And he was still doing it! Why hadn't he moved away? Why hadn't he taken the first step to already apologise for his stupid and unthinking action? This was all Ten's fault! If he hadn't told Doyoung to quote on quote _just go for it before your dick wrinkles up_ Doyoung would never have mustered the confidence to do something so. Freakin. Stupid.

Oh God, he was going to _kill_ Ten.

Jaehyun smiled into the kiss before pulling away. His lips were raw, pink, bitten, utterly sexy, and his big man hands gripped Doyoung's waist tightly as he leaned down to whisper words in his ear that made Doyoung's blood run cold with _want_.

"I've been waiting for you to do that."

Jaehyun grinned wickedly before pushing Doyoung in and shutting the door with the heel of his foot. He took his top off then, exposing his warm toned abs that Doyoung later found out tasted like milk chocolate, and approached Doyoung with eyes of a predator that was on the hunt for his next prey, biting his lips hungrily because Doyoung was the exact meal he had been waiting to _devour_.

And Doyoung couldn't ever recall any of the details after that because Jaehyun, in all his sex god, Adonis, dimpled, big man hand glory, had fucked Doyoung completely, utterly, and downright _dumb_.

**Author's Note:**

> And you may be wondering after all this, if Ten’s got an older husband, how old must Kun be? The answer is forty five.
> 
> The end.  
> (And as always, the biggest and happiest of birthdays to Dojaefairy!!!)  
> [twt](https://mobile.twitter.com/starhoneyy)  
> [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/starhoneyyy)


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